


From The Damage

by ThatKanraGirl



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: But there's smut and stuff lmao, Handcuffs, I wrote this so long ago and I don't even remember what it's about, M/M, Probably Spoilers, airship sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 14:23:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14262933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatKanraGirl/pseuds/ThatKanraGirl
Summary: There was no such thing as coincidence. It wasn't by mere chance that Balthier came into his life, or that Basch wanted him to stay, fates and gods be damned.





	From The Damage

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, I put it in the tags, but I haven't looked at or touched this fic in forever. It was originally a commission for an old friends years ago, but I wanted to share it with everyone after I saw a post on Twitter that reminded me that I wrote it, lol! 
> 
> I apologize now if it's awful. 24 year old me was a different girl. I don't know her. (But if it's good, I might remember how to get ahold of her, lol!)

Running water was a pleasantry that was hard to come by in Nalbina, at least in the kind that was clean and not ridden with mud and maggots – which were a much easier find than the water, being a dungeon and all. It was nice on Basch’s skin. Coats of dirt and grime that came from being caged for countless days circled the drain. His physique, he noted with a disapproving sigh, had started ebbing on the edge of frailty. Sure, he had fought in more than a fair share of matches and had won them all with the exception of his first. That had been a fight he would have cared not to remember at all, but was hard for forget as his hand glided over the marred, jagged flesh along his thigh, watching the soap wash away years of torment and hardship.

Basch hadn’t expected a warm welcome upon his arrival back to Rabanastre, yet Vossler was kind, if not hesitant, to provide him with a shower and fresh clothes. Perhaps he put too much guilt on himself, but he supposed being branded as a ‘King Slayer’ had much to do with that. His old comrade had no reason to trust him, having only Reks’s word to go on, and still he was generous.

His thoughts drifted as he soaked his head in the shower, specifically to the brown-haired man donned in leather and gold that had aided in his escape. A sky pirate, he recalled. He had deigned to fight alongside him, a fallen knight, with little question. He’d held his own in the mines, and across the Estersand back to the city. The man was intriguing as much as he was appealing. Balthier, he had said his name was, and a fine name it was for a handsome man.

Basch groaned and rested his head against the brick wall of the shower, forcibly trying to ignore his growing erection. It had to be expected, he supposed. A long time had passed without any contact or desire for companionship. His eyes slid shut, his mind focused on the pirate as a soapy hand wrapped around his cock, stroking himself lightly. It had been so long – _too_ long – and Basch was sensitive to the lightest of touches, his hips jerking quickly into the loose grasp. It felt good to imagine someone’s mouth around him again, a wickedly dangerous and wonderful tongue gliding up and down his cock, lips sucking him and kissing his inner thighs.

Heat built up in his groin fast, grabbing a firm hold on him until he could see white flash behind his eyes. He came hard with a strained moan into the hand that he slapped over his mouth. Silently, Basch watched as the evidence of his attraction seeped into the holes of the drain. How silly of him to think of someone whom he would more than likely never see again. Men like Balthier, sky pirates, were never in one place for very long, nor were they interested in men that upheld the laws they so carelessly broke. Still, it irked him as to why he had so freely accepted what had really transpired on that fateful night he had become just another prisoner of the Empire.

He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as he hit all of the matted tangles and knots and poked his out of the shower, eyes scanning the tiny cut-out of a room before spotting the scissors on the sink nearby. Basch would be thankful to be rid of such long hair.

Taking the scissors in one hand and his hair in another he snipped, immediately feeling pounds lighter, and dumped the fistful into the waste bin next to the toilet. The nest of hair was easy to tame like this, and with the help of some conditioner, his hair fell nicely into shoulder-length waves. Finally, he was starting to feel less of a grimy prisoner and more of the knight he had once been.

Basch turned, shutting the water off before grabbing the towel that was provided. It was stained – blood, no doubt, with holes, but he wouldn’t complain. He certainly hadn’t expected the royal treatment – or any kind treatment at all, for that matter, and he would take anything that was given to him with humble gratitude. It was scratchy and probably old, but it was still enough to dry him as he stepped from the shower and dressed himself. The clothes, he thought, might have been his from a time ago, though he could only fathom as to why Vossler had held onto them for so long.

“Then what of Ondore’s proclamation? Are you suggesting they fooled even the Marquis?”

“What if a judge killed the king, not the captain? That would explain everything wouldn’t it?”

The voices of men he could once call his own could be heard through the lightweight door as Basch bent to lace one shoe. They had every right to be wary. It was by a fool’s fate the events had happened as they did. He continued listening quietly on the other side.

“In that case the captain would be brother to a judge! How are we to trust such a man?”

Of course, that would be the trouble of it all. There was no easy way to vouch for his innocence. All of the proof that he indeed had a twin brother had been lost when Landis fell. Basch scoffed, reaching for the other shoe. He would sooner have the luck felling a hundred worgen single-handedly than proving that said judge was his brother.

Basch stood, taking a deep, heavy breath before walking through the door, chin held as high as he could muster through the weight of the situation. Heads turned, eyes snapped to look him over, and mouths suddenly clamped shut to discontinue their banter. Vossler’s voice caught him a little off guard, his head whipping to his left to meet the eyes of his once comrade.

“Now there is the Basch that I remember.”

Basch swallowed thickly, his voice failing him at first. How was he to even approach this? Of course, restoring order to Dalmasca and appointing the Lady Ashe as the rightful heir to the throne were imperative. Still, he was apprehensive. Even as he spoke his voice was too eager.

“Then will you fight again at my side?”

“His word alone convinces me of nothing!” The arguments continue.

“I’d take his word over that of a mouthpiece marquis!”

“Then you name Reks liar with him!”

“My brother was no liar!”

At that everyone turned, Basch included, his gaze falling upon the same dusty blond boy that had helped him escape from Nalbina. How strange that he would be here though. Still, the boy, or Vaan rather, showed up at just the right time.

“Just the opposite,” Basch started. “Reks was the witness they needed. They had to make it appear as I killed the king – Reks bears no blame.” He looked Vaan over, the slightest of smirks on his face then. “The fates have willed it.”

“So this is Reks’s brother.” Vossler approached the blond, taking the sword he carried forcefully. “Your words may convince a child such as this, but they weigh far too lightly on the scales for my taste.” He faced Basch again, his face cross, the way he would stare at a new recruit. “Our paths will remain separate.”

Basch admitted he was a bit crestfallen. He had hoped to fight alongside his good friend once again, to set out and accomplish what they could not three years ago. Yet another something he should have expected, though.

“Do you not think Amalia worth saving?” It was a last, feeble attempt to join him, though he doubted it would have any worth to the other man. Vossler sighed, his eyes downcast.

“I hold men’s lives in my hands. I must see foes in every shadow.” He walked past Basch, barely sparing him a glance as he continued. “The night we moved against Vayne, he knew. I will not chance such disadvantage again. I must treat you as I would Ondore – as I would treat any abettor of the Empire.” Vossler turned, looking over his shoulder to hold Basch’s gaze, and Basch glared back, a small fury raging inside him.

“Then what will you do? Hold me here in chains?” Vossler’s face softened after a moment, facing Basch fully and tossing him the sword he had taken from Vaan. There was a certain weakness in his eyes then that Basch couldn’t place, but he had hoped that it was a look that held the same feelings of old friendship and trust that he himself still held for the other man. “Some things never change, do they?”

“Listen to me, Basch.” The darker haired man warned, “Your cage may have no bars but it is a cage. The eyes of The Resistance watch unblinking.”

“Let them watch.” Basch smirked, turning on heel away from him. “I know something of cages.” With that he retreated, the eyes of the watching, as Vossler had said and Vaan in tow. When they were a distance away from the exit Basch slowed, allowing the blond to catch up.

“That’s right,” Vaan said, his eyes watching the floor as if remembering something, “Amalia’s in The Resistance.” Basch’s eyes snapped to him.

“Then you know her.”

“Sort of,” Vaan explained as they kept walking, “We met just before we got sent to Nalbina. I’ve known nicer people.”

“Our paths keep crossing, yours and mine. It’s more than coincidence.” How strange that this boy that he had met in Nalbina that was filled with so much hatred would have so much to offer him? It was by no mere chance, Basch thought. Things were beginning to fall as they should. Still, there was the matter of clearing his name and restoring peace to Dalmasca. There was also the matter of the sky pirate that would ebb into his thoughts here and there.

He stopped for a moment, contemplating. It would kill two birds with one stone, so to speak, if he sought out the pirate. Surely, there would be a price, and there was no price Basch wouldn’t pay for his freedom. It was fool proof, he thought.

“It’s annoying,” Vaan shot at him, and Basch couldn’t help but chuckle. He was still a child, indeed.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “allow me one last annoyance: a favor to ask. I want you to take me to Balthier. Even caged birds need wings.”

Vaan paused a moment. “This makes us even.”

“Even?”

“For Nalbina. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

Basch smiled, leaving it at that and followed him out of Lowtown, a comfortable silencing lingering between them for a long while.

Being back on the streets of Rabanastre was bittersweet. The war had certainly changed things from the way he had remembered them. Rundown, the citizens lived in fear of the Empire that now reigned over their home. As they walked Basch couldn’t help noticing the number of children running the streets. It wasn’t uncommon for children to play, but something seemed off, and Vaan seemed to notice the frown on his face.

“A lot of kids lost their parents in the war,” he explained, watching the same group of children that had caught Basch’s eye. “Mine – mine had already died before that. The plague took them both.” He didn’t know why Vaan was so suddenly open with him. Perhaps it was a sign of forgiveness; at least, that is what Basch had hoped.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Vaan had gone on to explain how he had lived with a friend of his and her family until the war came. Basch still couldn’t help the guilt he felt. It was his fault Reks had been involved to begin with. Thinking back on it, he would wager his brother would have expected him to pick up stragglers. He had played right into his hands, and it was something Basch didn’t ever think he could forgive himself for.

“I am sorry,” he apologized again, and Vaan managed a weighted chuckle.

“You don’t have to keep apologizing. Really, it’s all right. I know it wasn’t your fault. I see that now. You didn’t kill my brother.” Vaan paused, and Basch turned to look at him only to see the boy had his eyes fixed on the red and black banner that hung from the palace. His eyes burned with hatred and pain, and Basch wished just then he could do something to reverse that night if only to ease Vaan’s suffering a little.

“It was the Empire.” Vaan’s eyes were on him again, darker than before from the weight he carried on his shoulders. So young, this boy, yet he had a better understanding of life than most men he knew. “My brother trusted you, and he was right.” He started walking again, leaving Basch to follow. Maybe this boy wasn’t as childish as he seemed.

Their journey ended at the Sandsea. Dark and crowded as usual, and Basch couldn’t remember the last time he had set foot in the establishment, although he was sure it was with Vossler. He followed Vaan up the stairs and instantly he heard a familiar voice, one that made his hair stand on the back of his neck and send a thrill down his spine followed by another voice that he hadn’t recognized.

“As I said, a misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding?! What I’m understanding is that they took Penelo because of you!”

He remembered the name Penelo from his pervious conversation with Vaan. So, his friend had been kidnapped, it seemed. Rather unfortunate. In an instant Vaan was at the bangaa’s side.

“What? What about Penelo?”

“Oh, Vaan!” The creature cried, “They’ve taken Penelo! And there was a note – a note for this, Balthier! ‘Come to the Bhujerba mines, it said.”

“It’s Ba’Gamnan.” The viera, Fran, he thought her name was, said from the other side of the table. “He was in Nalbina.”

“If anything happens to that sweet child – why, I’ve her parents’ memory to consider!” The bangaa cut her off, continuing his tirade to Balthier who seemed entirely unenthused with the entire ordeal. Basch watched silently for a moment longer. Ironic that the fates would have them going to the same destination.

“You’re going to go to her aide and that’s that! It’s what you sky pirates do, isn’t it?”

“I don’t respond well to orders.” Balthier snapped, narrowing a glare at the bangaa. “You do know that the Imperial fleet is massing at Bhujerba?”

“Fine, the I’ll go! You at least have an airship, don’t you? Just get me there and I’ll find Penelo myself!” Basch saw the desperation in Vaan’s eyes as he stepped closer to Balthier. It was the same will and determination he had seen in Reks’s eyes the day he was slain.

He stepped forward, eyes locking with Balthier’s. “I’ll join you,” he said and Vaan looked at him, confused. “I have some business there as well.”

“An audience with the Marquis, by chance?” Basch was a little taken aback. The pirate was well informed, and he supposed he ought to be. A wanted man such as him needed to know where the most dangers lie. Balthier’s eyes ensnared him, holding him in a glance that he could be no means shake. Goosebumps rose on his skin but he wouldn’t break contact. It wasn’t until Vaan spoke again that Balthier dragged his eyes away from his own.

“Balthier, just take us and this is yours.”

“The Gods are toying with us.” Fran muttered as she rested her chin in her hand, looking over at her companion and Balthier groaned, shaking his head as he stood. He walked past them both and headed down the stairs, calling to them over his shoulder.

“Make yourselves ready. We leave soon.”

The Strahl was certainly no bird to sneeze at. A beautiful ship that flew smoother than some other ships Basch had been on over the years, and Balthier handled her like a precious treasure. Every move the man made was fluid and confident, as though he could have done it in his sleep, a thought that honestly wouldn’t have surprised Basch in the slightest. He wondered for a moment what it was like to be so free, without being tied to one place or person before his thoughts drifted again to something more sexual, of having Balthier tied, perhaps to his own chair in the cockpit. Yes, that had certainly been a gratifying thought, but one that died as takeoff was complete. His eyes watched as the other man strutted past him, his hips swaggering from side to side with an allure that was surely classified as unmanly but far be it from Basch to even care. He stood to follow him, finding himself mesmerized with the hips of a gypsy. It was impossible to break the spell.

“Something I can help you with, Captain?” The smooth voice broke Basch from his trance and his eyes snapped up to Balthier’s then to his surroundings, realizing with a creeping flush on his cheeks that he’d followed him back to what he could only assume was the man’s private quarters. Basch swallowed thickly, adverting his gaze.

“There is something I wish to ask you.”

“Well please, make it quick. I should like to rest properly before we rescue Vaan’s friend,” Balthier drawled with a stretch over his head and Basch nodded. He may as well just say it then.

“I told you I wasn’t a king slayer, and told you my story, but you were the only one who wasn’t skeptical. Why?”

Shock crossed Balthier’s features, his eyes suddenly shifting uncomfortably before looking back at Basch. His gaze was piercing, analyzing and studying his features until they softened sadly.

“I knew your brother,” was the quiet reply, and Basch could feel ice run through his veins as Balthier slipped behind his door, shutting it behind him without another word. What did he mean? How could he have possibly known Noah? Confusion wrought over him and he soon found himself pounding on the door.

“Balthier! What do you mean? Answer me! Balthier!” Basch’s voice grew desperate on the other side of the door as he continued slamming his fist on the door, growling when he realized he wasn’t going to get any more answers from him.  Defeated, he gave up, walking away with his head hung. This wouldn’t be the end of this conversation.

He kept finding ways to be close to Balthier, but he wasn’t sure this was one of the reasons he wanted to be near. Something ached in him, longing for answers that only seemed to lead to more questions. Maybe this quest wouldn’t be as easy as he had hoped it would be.

Things had progressed as though the exchange had never happened, although Basch had noticed that Balthier seemed to look at him differently. It wasn’t a terrible feeling, although Basch couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t seeing him at all, but his brother. It bothered him more than it should have, but saw it as more of a challenge than anything. Whatever the past was between Balthier and Noah was obviously just that.

Their escape from the Leviathan and then from Ondore’s guards led them back to the Strahl. The fates had toyed with him yet again, although he had been thankful for Vossler’s aide. This adventure was only beginning.

Basch had seen to it that the Lady Ashe was properly asleep before he crept out, leaving her majesty to rest and found himself alone in the cockpit of the ship, looking out over the night sky as the ship flew on autopilot. The stars reminded him of Landis, the open fields of his home where he and Noah played as children. Basch couldn’t remember the last time he had had such freedom, and he envied Balthier in a sense for it. With a heavy sigh he made to stand, stopping when he felt a hand on his own. He glanced up, meeting blue eyes that seemed to glitter in the moonlight as they shined down on him.

“Leaving so soon?” Balthier smiled a little and sat in the seat across from him. “I was hoping I would have a chance to talk to you.”

Basch felt himself sink back into the seat and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He offered the man a tiny nod, waiting for him to speak. Admittedly, the last few nights of events had taken his mind from the confrontation from before, but he was more than ready to hear an explanation. Balthier took a labored breath, mimicking his posture and hanging his head a little.

“Before he was the law-abiding judge we know today, your brother had taken me under his wing. He taught me how to fight, plan attacks and everything that a judge should know.”

“Then that would mean you were –“

“A judge, yes.” Balthier finished, “He was good to me though, perhaps a little too good.” Basch was about to ask him what he meant when he saw the slightest of blushes tinge his cheekbones, and immediately his heart sank.

“I see.” Basch turned his head away. So that was how it was? When Balthier looked at him he didn’t see him, but his brother. That was why Balthier had been so easy to convince of the truth, and so willing to forgive him. A long silence passed between then two of them but Basch’s head was screaming at him. Noah had already had what he wanted, had probably broken him somehow. He wanted know what had happened, feeling obliged to make it better. “I’m sorry.”

He moved to stand again but Balthier was quicker, climbing into his lap and settling his knees into the seat on either side of him. Shaky, nervous hands cupped his cheeks, feeling the scratch of his beard against his skin and he could feel him shiver above him. His own hands grasped the hips that had so enticed him as their eyes fell into one another’s.

“Do you see me?” his voice was soft, hesitant, and Balthier looked down at him, blinking at the question. “Do you see me, and not my brother?” Balthier heaved a long breath from his mouth and Basch could feel it on his skin, sending goose bumps down his arms and his blood racing through his veins.

“Yes,” he muttered, “And that’s what I want.”

The distance between them closed and Balthier’s lips moved with his own. He tasted of cinnamon and spice, a taste that he could easily see himself falling in love with over and over again as he licked his lips. His hands gripped him tighter, drawing him closer and pulling him flush against his chest. Balthier was smaller in frame despite being what couldn’t be more than an inch taller than him, and he could only imagine how he would feel sans armor. The thought made him groan against his lips as Balthier moved in for another, more intense kiss, and an eager tongue pressed for entrance.

Basch’s body moved on its own accord, fingers nimbly unhooking the golden armor that clad his chest and sending it to the floor with a noisy clatter. It didn’t stop them though, Balthier rolling hips along his and Basch was embarrassed to find himself so hard already. The pirate smirked, though, as he pulled his head back in slight.

“It has been a rather long time for you, has it not? Perhaps we should slow it down just a little,” he teased, and Basch opened his mouth to protest, the sound of a faint _click_ grabbing his attention. His vision dropped, as did his jaw when he saw the handcuffs binding his hands to the chair. When had he moved them? More importantly, when had Balthier moved his? “And do close your mouth,” Balthier continued. “You resemble a gaping fish.” Basch’s eyes darted back up to Balthier’s, watching as a devious grin spread over his features.

“This really isn’t necessary,” he finally managed, but the pirate only laughed, sliding from his lap and removing his shirt torturously slow. Basch felt his mouth go dry, making swallowing painful as he drank in the sight of him. Pale flesh nearly sparkled in the moonlight the night provided them. Balthier was sculpted, though not quite muscular, and his body seemed to move to its own rhythm as though everything else around him hadn’t stopped in time and he was the only thing that could dance in the night’s light.

Basch struggled against his restraints; the all too familiar feeling of being bound something between unsettling and arousing. He needed to touch, had to feel that flawless skin underneath his hands. The hard lines of his erection pressed against his pants and he groaned – no matter how he shifted it just wasn’t gratifying.

“Something you like, Basch?” The question was purred and it made the blond shudder. There had never been a time his name had sounded so alluring. He had to hear it again. Self-control was something lost to Basch then, desire pooling in the pit of his stomach as he watched Balthier’s hands roam his own body, sinuous noises bubbling in his throat. The light from the stars was just enough for Basch to make out the outline of the other man’s cock, hardened and he could only fathom that it was as beautiful as the rest of him. Licking his cracked lips he nodded, and Balthier chuckled. “Would you like to see more?”

With a shaky breath Basch nodded again, pulling at the handcuffs that kept him still. It was a sweet torture, one that had him as close to the edge of his seat as his chains allowed. He enjoyed this show, but he wanted more. Deft fingers played over the button of Balthier’s tight leather pants and Basch studied every move carefully, examining how expertly theatrical the whole thing was. Slow and steady, those hands disassembled his pants, and the ex-knight would have sworn he could actually hear each notch of his zipper being undone one at a time. It was maddening, and he was losing his patience.

“I must say,” Basch stated with a smirk, “you must like making a flashy entrance no matter the situation.” There was a grin on Balthier’s face and he slid a hand beneath the fabric, rubbing himself and moaning lewdly into the silent cockpit, save for the running of the ship.

Basch begged, “Let me touch you.” The look he received made him sit back a little and Balthier inched toward him, sauntering the short distance with a cruel smirk. 

“You aren’t exactly in a position to be making demands,” he warned and grabbed the back of Basch’s head, pulling his face level with his almost freed cock. “On this ship, I am the Captain.” With his other hand he tugged the tight pants over his erection, letting the tip of it brush Basch’s parted lips.

Up close, it was as perfect as he had imagined, the scent a mixture of holly and musk and the blond found himself nearly salivating, a contrast to what had been a completely dry mouth prior. He tried tilting his head back but to little avail, Balthier’s vice-like grip on his head unwavering. Not being in control was something not foreign to him after three years in a cage, though in this context it was entirely different. Basch trusted Balthier, more than he had trusted anyone in a long time. He knew no harm would come to him.

“Go on,” Balthier taunted, loosening his hold only a little. “You were so demanding before.”

Basch licked his lips and swallowed hard, his need for this coming out in short, hot huffs of breath that made Balthier’s cock twitch in anticipation. Darting his tongue out he licked a long, hot stripe along the underside of his length and the pirate groaned, lurching those wonderful hips forward. How he wished he wasn’t bound – those hips would have fit so nicely in his grasp.

He was hesitant for a moment before taking the tip between his lips, sucking lightly and drawing out a long, fluttering breath from the sky pirate who gripped his hair tighter. It was encouraging. It made him less shy – not that he was because knights weren’t shy. Something about it felt sinful but that was hardly a care on his mind when the weight of Balthier’s cock on his tongue was so damnably wonderful. He plunged his lips lower, taking more in, sucking in unsure drags that he hoped were still pleasurable to the other man. If the soft moans and tightening fingers in his hair were any indication, Basch thought Balthier was enjoying it.

Swollen lips popped over the head softly and back down again after rolling his tongue over the tip and he could tell that the pirate was fighting to hold himself back and not simply use his war-hardened face. He smirked as he sucked in long, hard strides, the tremors that coursed through his body reverberating on his tongue. He struggled against his bindings, nails clawing at the fabric of the chair.

In a sudden motion his head was tugged back, Basch’s eyes snapping up to meet the pirate’s gaze. They swirled with desire, as he was sure his own were and Basch groaned. His cock ached, needing release desperately. Before he could blink Balthier was on him, teeth tugging at his lips, tongue grazing his in search of that extra spark and Basch’s lashes fluttered on his skin as his eyes slid shut. His body reacted on instinct, his lips lurching forward, urgently seeking the friction he so lusted for.

A chuckle sounded in his ears and quick fingers grazed down his face and over his chest, plucking at the buckles on his vest. The flat palm of Balthier’s hands on him brought out something of a growl in Basch’s throat and the vest clinked to the floor of the cockpit, echoing in the silence of the night. He could feel the heat between their bodies now, a delicious wave that made his cheeks tinge pink.

“Cat caught your tongue, Basch?” Balthier teased, his lips sliding over each scar that littered his body, careful to treat each one with some sort of affection. The sentiment made Basch speechless, eyes watching him curiously as he sank lower down his body.

When Balthier had finally hooked his fingers into the hem of his pants he tugged, dragging them down over his hips and Basch would have sworn he had heard the other gasp. A soft groan broke away from his lips as Balthier eyed him, fingers kneading into the inside of his thighs after tossing the last of the clothing aside.

Silence lingered between them, hanging in the moment that almost seemed judgmental. A rose color flush dusted Balthier’s cheeks in the light of the moon and he kissed the erection before him softly. His eyes flitted up to Basch’s, a smile on his lips as he crawled over him again, pressing his lips over his with equal tenderness and speaking the answer to the question Basch was nearly afraid to ask.

“Put your mind at ease, Basch,” came the soft reassurance. “Your brother is the farthest from my mind now.”

Basch leaned up in slight, kissing the abused lips that had haunted his dreams since Nalbina. Nothing needed to be said in response – words were unnecessary. Again he fought against the handcuffs, the clink of the metal seeming like a distant noise.  His eyes begged,  _‘Please…just let me hold you.’_

The intense gaze between them softened. Balthier’s hands trailed along every curve of muscle in his arms until they rested on his hands. There was a faint click and Basch could feel the pressure from the handcuffs release. He wanted to question him, but his body reacted before his brain could catch up, his arms pulling him close. Battle roughed hands scored up his back with blunt nails and crashed his lips to his.

This was better. Much better.

Balthier purred something like a royal feline against his tongue and Basch would have sworn right then that it was the most delicious sound he had ever tasted. It sent chills rolling down his body, his hips meeting the fine curve of Balthier’s ass. He needed more still, his hands falling to back of his thighs and creeping up, easing a finger inside of him. Lewd curses filled the cockpit; soft panting hitting his cheek and Basch could feel him moving along the digit. At first, Basch hadn’t thought he had heard him right until he heard it again, a quiet plea for more caressing his ear.

Quickly sliding his finger from him he grasped his cock, his other hand easing him down. Balthier shook in his hold, delightful cries spilling from his lips as he sank lower, not stopping until they were flush.

The heat that raced through Basch’s very blood sent him dizzy, his eyes closing to ride out the rush. There could be no greater feeling than this, he had thought.

That was until Balthier moved.

A loud moan tore from between his lips, stifling it hurriedly into his neck and biting down, his teeth marring the creamy flesh and Balthier hissed. He melted into the chair with every languid motion and heated pant that came from above him. Tender huffs of breath graced the pirate’s ear as Basch rocked with him slowly, getting lost in his senses. His own scent mixing with Baltheir’s and sex was nothing short of intoxicating. He craved more, and the more he craved the faster his hips rocked, feverishly digging his nails into the small of his back and forcing him down.

The chair creaked under the strain of their bodies clamoring together and some semblance of logic switched on his Basch’s head. Tightly gripping Balthier he stood, turning sharply to press him against the window of the Strahl and bracing himself with one hand by his head, the other clawing his jut of his hip to keep him steady. He thrust hard into him, their bodies slick with sweat, the sound of glass smudging with every needy snap of his hips harder.

Balthier’s moans carried throughout the cockpit, a sweet melody that Basch didn’t think he would ever tire of hearing. His nails desperately sought for purchase, burrowing into dampened blond locks and tugging none to gently, a hungry moan escaping him as he pulled him in for a bruising kiss. Tremors shook his body, arching from the window as he came between him, the mess trickling down his stomach.

Muscles clenched tight around Basch’s cock and he continued using him, the night sky as a backdrop to Balthier’s glow at it remind him of a star, his very own light to guide his path. Two, three more furious snaps of his hips and Basch spilled himself inside him, the hand on his hip holding him down against his pelvis. Heavy pants ghosted over the sheen of sweat on Balthier’s neck and he shuddered, a soft noise emitting from the back of his throat as he hold loosened, his body relaxing.

A gentle nuzzle on his cheek made Basch hum in response, content to hold the captain there all night. Slightly chapped lips pressed a kiss to his cheek and he smiled softly at the sweet affection.

“That was impressive, Captain,” Balthier, never one to miss a beat, whispered in his ear.

Basch chuckled lightly, returning the same affectionate nudge. “You as well, Captain,” he teased.

The next sentence caught Basch off-guard, sending a dusty blush across his cheekbones.

“Come to bed with me?” It was a quiet sort of plea, a need that the knight understood very well. There wasn’t a need to be alone, not tonight.

When dawn broke the next morning Basch immediately felt lonely. Balthier’s side of the bed was cold, indicating he had been gone for some time and he frowned. He rolled into Balthier’s pillows, inhaling his scent with a small smile. Sun crept in through the window, forcing Basch awake earlier than he wanted to be.

Thoughts of the night before settled in as his bare feet hit the cool floor, and a shiver raced up his spine. He spotted his clothes folded neatly on a small wooden chair and reached for them, mulling over his thoughts as he dressed. Did this change things between them? Was it going to be awkward? He needed to know where they stood. Pulling his boots on the got up from the bed, looking himself over once before making his way out of the bedroom door. Immediately he heard voice in the cockpit, Balthier delightful tenor catching his attention.

As he approached the front of the ship he could see that he was talking to Fran, who’s look was one of mild amusement. It wasn’t until he had entered the pit fully that he had seen why. There, next to the pilot’s seat of the window was a Balthier shaped outline and his handprint just beside it. His face turned bright red, his jaw nearly hitting the floor. Sensing another presence, they both turned to face him, Balthier’s embarrassed expression matching his own and they stared at one another for a moment before the sky pirate shook his head, looking back to the viera.

“Do not say a word. Got it?” 

 


End file.
